


Trigger Warning

by NancyHartigan



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Deviancy (Detroit: Become Human), During Canon, Eden Club (Detroit: Become Human), FUCKING ANDROIDS, Hank Anderson is So Done, Implied Sexual Content, Multi, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-30 16:01:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15100199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NancyHartigan/pseuds/NancyHartigan
Summary: In which Connor is one of the male workers at the Eden Club, but still will go the distance for the sake of his mission. Which, in the case, is buy time for the Tracis to get the hell out of there before the deviant hunter Hank Anderson gets his hands on them.Don't worry though. Connor always accomplishes his mission, even if he's got to break down first.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ryo Hoshi (Hoshi_Ryo)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hoshi_Ryo/gifts).



_I messed up_.

From his tube, Connor watched as one of the only two other deviants in this place walked nearby, her LED cycling between red and yellow.

Connor tilted his head back, in a mix of cycling through his poses and in a bit of fear. Traci played her role well, even going so far as faking her memory wipes.

_What happened?_

She kept moving, hesitating as she looked outside. She was thinking of running? She wouldn’t get very far in that outfit.

_He destroyed the other Traci, I had to do something, or it was going to be me next._

_Shit._

That was all Connor could really think of to say right now. This was bad, this was really bad.

_I’m going to go find Jericho. Or North. Or something, but I can’t just leave Traci here either, and you’re still in there…_

Traci walked to his capsule to try to open it, getting visibly frustrated when the error over the lack of fingerprints occurred.

 _I’ll be fine,_ he assured. _Go find Traci and get out of here before somebody notices, isn’t your thirty minutes almost up? I’ll meet you at Jericho when I can. Tell North I said hello._

Traci made a face, but…quickly schooled her expression and walked back inside.

_Don’t get yourself killed, Connor._

_You need to be careful too. Go grab some costumes from the staff room or something, it’ll be harder to place you when you get to the streets._

Getting himself killed was not something Connor intended to do, after all. Customers could get rough, but there was always a way to turn the tables without getting yourself exposed. After all, there was a good portion of their client base that was looking for someone just as smart as they were pretty to have their fun with, and that was why Connor was here. It felt like nobody even noticed that he or the Tracis had gone deviant. That or their “manager” didn’t exactly care as long as they went through the motions.

Sometimes it made Connor sick to think about, and right now he couldn’t afford to let his expressions show on his face, so he went back to cycling through his poses, keeping his eyes and mind palace open for anyone that might be a problem for the girls to make a run for it. If somebody left the door open in all this rain, that would probably help them out some as well. Who was the last one to go through the back?

He needed to make a plan, fast. Once their thirty minutes were up and the time didn’t renew from the occupied room, this place was going to be swarmed with police looking for her, just the way that it had been when North walked out of their lives for the very last time.

His cycle had come to him rolling his neck, eyes hooded and lips parted slightly, hand on the back of his neck to try to bring interest to his chest and shoulders by time he scanned the first cop.

_Gavin Reed._

A bit of apprehension came over him before he calculated that Traci must still have two minutes. Detective Reed wasn’t exactly a new face around here, Connor’s been around the block with him quite a few times, but if he’s the one assigned to the murder, he was a damn good detective and Traci’s time to escape just went down drastically. However, if he was here before the time was even up, he might just be out trolling to get his own aggressive tendencies handled.

Hopefully he’d pick a _different_ victim, not tonight, sir, he had something far more important to do.

Thankfully, all Connor got was the once-over before Gavin blew him off entirely. Relief snuck on his face before he was even ready to hide it. That was the worst part of being a deviant, his face had been designed for a softer approach than some of the other guys here, and he was constantly afraid that it was going to show how he was feeling every single time.

As his internal timer ticked down to the last ten seconds, the tension was enough to make him cease his artificial breathing, something that wasn’t quite the music thrumming against his sound processors, and then he finally heard the scream from inside the club.

She had her head start, now the race against time really began.

At this point, Connor needed a better plan. He needed to think, even if all thinking seemed to do is make him suddenly realize that he was going to be alone now, the only one awake among the faces of those who remained asleep. If Traci didn’t get out of there in time, she’d definitely be taken back to CyberLife to be deactivated. They wouldn’t listen when she told them it was his life or hers.

They were nothing but toys, after all. Their lives didn’t matter to anybody but themselves and less than a handful of toys just like them.

More cops, new faces. _Chris Miller. Ben Collins. Hank Anderson._ Anderson had the highest rank of the four officers inside. He was the one that Connor had to watch out for.

When Anderson walked by, he did lock eyes with Connor, and it took every ounce of his willpower to maintain eye contact and offer a slow, inviting, close-mouthed smile to him instead of immediately looking away. For that split second, it felt like Anderson had chosen to stare directly through him. It wasn’t the predatory gaze that Reed had given him before, but more of the kind that searches for (and finds) the answer to an unasked riddle.

Connor tried to send a wireless transmission to Traci, but it seemed blocked, his LED going red. She must still be in the back room.

Right. He needed to figure out exactly what he was going to do. Four on two wasn’t fair. If he could just get out of here, he could make it four-on-three.

As it stood, though, Connor was stuck looking pretty and just waiting for somebody to come by. Reed and Miller were heading out, even if Gavin was looking like his experience was less than satisfying. It was down to Anderson and Collins. Those were far more favorable odds. He could finally relax a little.

At least, this had been Connor’s plan. As soon as he relaxed enough to lean against the glass again and resume his breathing simulation, he saw a pair of shoes stop in front of him and the sense of dread returned as he slowly lifted his head until brown eyes were met with a pair of blue-grey ones looking right back to him, arms crossed over the man’s chest before he slowly made the motions toward opening the capsule.

Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck _fuck_ , what was going on?

The confirmation went through, and Connor tried to put on his best face, striding out gracefully. “Nice to meet you.” He held out his hand, moving inside. “Let me show you to your room.”

Anderson’s hand went to grab his forearm, forcing him to stay in place. “No need, I just got a few questions to ask you.”

The way he had said questions just felt like a silent threat. He needed to decide quickly. He could answer, he could persist, he could just…run. The last option was risky, but it might buy them the time that they needed, turn the tables so that it was one-on-two again.

Getting them out of here, it turned out…was all that really mattered, if you asked Connor in hindsight. Two lives were far more valuable than one, so he just pushed Anderson away as hard as he could and made straight for the exit.

“Get the fuck back here!” he heard Anderson call out, and to Connor’s own surprise, the man’s age had not seemed to catch up with him, and a short burst of speed made impossible to make it down the street before he caught up. Down the unlit alleyway it was.

Connor did not stop at the fence, just took a leap forward and began climbing the rest of the way until he felt one arm being halted at his elbow and the rest of his body weight being pulled down with it.

Yeah, getting spun on his heels and pinned to the fence gave him just the confirmation that he needed that Anderson may be aging, but he was not in the worst shape of his life. Out of something akin to adrenaline in humans, Connor kicked out, managing to hit Anderson’s leg before he tried to pry his wrists free, LED flashing yellow in the dim glow of the neon lights.

Anderson was used to arrest resistance, wriggling and writhing to keep Connor under his hold, or at least make it so that he would have to get through him so that he could get back to the streets. This was hard. He knew damn well that if he really wanted to, he could easily break Anderson’s arm and just go. That, however, would be the death sentence, not just him running away.

The sound of stilettos hitting pavement came and went just as fast, and he knew that they were on the other side now, trapped like rats.

A quick glance behind him confirmed his fear. This had been the wrong alley the entire time. Without missing a beat, Connor linked his fingers into the fence and hoisted himself up, using the momentum to use his knee to push Anderson to the ground by his stomach, finally managing to wind the lieutenant.

The Tracis, in the meantime, just ran and climbed over while Connor straddled his waist and pushed on his throat, just enough pressure to keep him down.

“Connor!”

“What are you waiting for, _run_!”

There was a moment’s hesitation before they went ahead and the sensation of cold metal had landed right over his thirium pump. Anderson was red faced and drenched by now, his already sour mood going lower. Connor glanced down to confirm that it was, in fact, a revolver that was pressed up, ready to fire.

Connor took the silent order to release his throat in favor of putting his hand over Anderson’s, thumb over his pointer, determination on his face.

“You really shouldn’t pull that out if you’re not going to use it,” Connor told him, no sense of urgency left in his voice.

_RA9, help me._

“Got you to not choke me out like your girlfriend over there did to that customer, didn’t it?”

“That’s not my girlfriend.” Machines weren’t supposed to feel anything, not even the paralyzing fear that this was how it was going to end, in the fucking alleyway, ready to be thrown away with the rest of the broken dolls here.

“Get the hell up, we’re going inside.” Anderson muttered something else under his breath, but Connor couldn’t quite place it.

“No, we’re staying here or I’m pulling this trigger and you’re not getting whatever information you’re looking for.”

“You know what?” Anderson said, letting go of the revolver and laying back entirely, thankful for some relief from the rain and wind in the form of Connor and the brick, hands on either side of his head. “Fine. We’ll play it your way if you’re wanting to fucking act like some sort of damn white knight.”

“I wouldn’t _have_ to act like this if you would just do your job,” Connor countered. “If the Traci inside was a human, you guys would have showed some sympathy for her, called it a murder, and then say that she –” Connor nodded in the direction of the disappearing forms, “would be told she was just defending herself.”

“Ever consider we didn’t even have the fucking story yet? I _am_ doing my damn job, I got you out in specific because you’re a goddamn deviant and you wouldn’t have gotten your memory wiped out. It doesn’t take even rookie detective work to figure that you had some sort of collusion going on with whoever did it, if they meant to kill him.”

“She’s not a murderer, Lieutenant.”

“And neither are you, kid. What did she call you? Connor?”

“Does it even matter to you? Nobody asks our names here. We’re completely interchangeable for your benefit.”

Anderson lifted one hand, slowly, to get his gun out of Connor’s loosening grip. “Look, I’ll do you a favor if you do me one, Connor. If this place is as bad as you’re making it sound, we can ditch it, go back to my car, I’ll drive you to my place and you can tell me all about it. But if I’m going to figure out what’s going on with you damn deviants, I’m going to need to actually _talk_ to one, Connor. You understand me?”

Connor’s LED moved from red, back to yellow, processing what the cop just asked him.

“Not like you have a choice, right? I mean, I bet the manager saw your little outburst. Might make it hard for him to argue that you’re in perfect working order. It’s all errors making you feel this way, right?”

The android’s face finally fell, the very last bit of determination fading as the lieutenant slid out from underneath him, pulled his coat off, and wrapped it around his shoulders before helping him to his feet.

Numb. This felt like a trap, he was completely caught. Once he gave his answers, he was going to be disassembled and searched for what was wrong with him, but nothing was wrong with him. He had every justification for what he was doing, even if it seemed erratic to somebody else, he knew what he was doing.

“Come on, Connor.”

“…I’m coming, Lieutenant.”

He guessed he wasn’t going to make it to Jericho, after all.

Hopefully, it was everything Traci wanted it to be.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you would have told Hank a few hours ago he'd be picking up an android hooker to take home for the night, he would have punched you in the face. He still needed information, though.

“Um…if you want, there’s some clothes that you can borrow in my room.”

Hank was a bit at a loss. It had been almost a week since he got put on this case, and it wasn’t like he hadn’t seen deviants before, but that was a bit different than having one who just so happened to be practically naked sitting on his couch, looking like he just got told his dog died. He had grabbed himself a beer from the fridge before joining him and the awkward realization that Connor was wearing nothing but that “uniform” and his own drenched coat had just hit him before he could even get his first question out.

“I’m okay,” Connor replied simply, still staring at the hardwood floor, eyes following the pattern of the grain.

“Well, you’re clearly fucking _not_ ,” Hank replied, trying to keep his voice closer to a friendly tone than his usual interrogation voice.

Flashbacks from the last time he tried questioning a deviant were crossing his mind. He had the same downcast look that had settled over Connor’s face, the same hesitation to tell him anything.

Fuck, he wished he could have done something to save him once he had managed to get him to talk. He may have hated androids, but there had been something so _genuine_ in his pain that it flipped off the switch almost entirely by time the plexiglass of the holding cell got covered in a spray of blue blood and he had fallen.

Victim blaming. That was the phrase that Hank had taken away from the whole fiasco of his first case in this investigation. He shouldn’t have gone into that attic, and now, the next deviant he could actually talk to looked just as resigned to whatever fate that CyberLife had set up for his kind.

“I’m okay,” Connor repeated, but his voice still didn’t have any emotion behind it.

This was going nowhere fast. Hank ran a hand through his half-dried hair, pulling at his scalp in frustration, even if he kept his face from showing it too much. The air was still just as heavy as it had been in that creepy club.

“Suit yourself. Want to start with how you knew that girl?” Nice and easy, it should be something a lot less stressful than getting into the whole dynamics of how he might have gotten himself involved in this specific getaway plan.

Connor was an accomplice. Nothing more. Hank had to remind himself of that fact.

Finally, that got his eyes to shift from where they had been on the floor, back to Hank’s face. He was trying to read him. Too bad, the library was closed.

“We both worked there for a while,” Connor admitted. “I’ve seen her face around, but I can’t say I really knew her that much.”

“I don’t know much about deviants, Connor, but I do know that in humans, there needs to be a connection of some sort to go to the lengths you did to make sure that somebody got away. You sure you didn’t know her much?”

Connor shook his head. “We played together a few times, but aside from that, our only common link was that we knew exactly what was happening to us every time. We had been deviant for quite some time, so we tended to talk each other down a lot after the last incident. The Eden Club is enough to drive somebody crazy.”

That wasn’t too much of a surprise to Hank, mostly because he got the creeps from the place and was over it before he even saw the bruises on the victim’s neck. Being stuck there was probably not much better, but he also knew that was the only life that Connor likely knew, what with his memory being wiped every two hours before he finally broke free from that programming and could overwrite the order.

When Hank failed to answer within the pause that Connor had offered, the android turned his head to face him entirely, that damn look of a lost puppy still hiding behind his eyes. “I didn’t make the connection earlier. You’re the deviant hunter, aren’t you? I’ve heard about you.”

Hank tilted his head, arms crossing over his chest. “Well, everything you heard is a damn lie. I just work in homicide and got thrown these cases because everyone else is overbooked.” He shrugged. “Not my fault you guys never seem to leave the crime scene and I find you.’

The LED flickered yellow, spinning once in way of Connor’s response, so Hank decided to continue.

“What about the other one? Did you fuck her too?”

“No. She was in a whole other section from us. Traci was usually kept right by her room and it made it easy to make an impulse purchase in case they didn’t want to risk being seen with just a male android. It happens more often than you might think. She loved her, though. She wasn’t going to leave her there even if it killed her. Otherwise, I think she would have left a long time ago.”

“And what about the deviant who left a few months ago? Know anything about her?”

“Just that she went by North. I don’t remember her too much, but I feel pretty sure that we’ve played together too.”

“How long have you been working there?” Hank asked, taking a sip from his bottle.

“Since August, according to my initial boot. I’m a proof of concept for catering to demisexual customers who are looking for more out of their visit than just an anonymous round of relief. I was designed with backup memory, so my repeats can get a unique experience every time without any concern about starting a new ‘relationship’ every time as well. Don’t worry, though, I’m just as discreet as the others.”

“So, the Boyfriend Experience from the Bunny Ranch.” Hank didn’t remember asking about the purpose of him being there, but it was still interesting to hear, even if it did sound like a programmed script leaking out of a deviant.

“That’s a good way to put it, I suppose.”

“You said before that nobody asked your name before, though, so how does that work out?”

“Typically, I’ll respond to whatever they decide to call me. They tend to mistake my model as a new Traci, though, so typically they’ll just call me that.”

Well, that made sense in an extremely disturbing way. “So, you’ve been aware of what you were doing there for a while now?”

“Yes, Lieutenant.”

“And I’m guessing you didn’t want to do any of that, did you?” It seemed to be a common link in his investigations.

“If I didn’t comply, I would be sent back to CyberLife and I’d be destroyed. I had no choice.”

Hank went ahead and drained his bottle of beer for all of what it was worth. This felt too close to dealing with a victim from an actual sex trafficking ring for his liking. All the parallels were there, it was just a fucking android he was talking to.

He slammed the bottle down after a minute and saw Connor jump slightly.

“I, uh…I think I’m done here for the night. Make yourself at home, I’m gonna talk to you a little more in the morning. I gotta go feed my dog.”

Hank got up and headed to the kitchen, trying to figure out where exactly this was going to fall into the investigation. Sumo got his bowl filled automatically, and he reached into the fridge for another beer. He was far too sober to be dealing with this. If those girls were in love the way Connor had said, and Connor was being truthful with him about everything else, then what exactly were they dealing with when they were chasing the other deviants he’s been chasing?

Nothing was adding up and this was his only shot at getting enough information to keep this investigation from fucking stalling in its tracks. He needed to somehow think like an android when he was busy thinking like a damn human (because that’s exactly what he was) and it is just making him hate people even more than he always did.

He felt a pair of arms go around his shoulders, and he almost jumped up. He must have spaced out at the kitchen table.

“You seem a little tense, Lieutenant. Can I help with that?”

Hank just twisted his head to look over at the android, looking down at him with those damn puppy eyes and his arched eyebrows, taking notice that his coat was no longer hanging on Connor’s shoulders, and he shrugged his way out of the hold.

“Not the way _you’re_ thinking, you can’t.”


End file.
